short story
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The universe usually seemed to work in opposition to people’s plans; was he now doomed to fall in love then get divorced then spend his twilight years looking at smiling pictures that now only made him frown?
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“Oh, no. You’re not leaving, Marie. I’ve got one over there waiting for you,” he told her, pointing to the back deck. There stood another red, porcelain garden pot that matched the other five inside the garden.
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Before I begin, let me inform you of one very important fact: I am dead and I am a ghost. Yes, that is essential to know. How do I know that I am dead and a ghost? Well, I can walk through walls, I can float across the room without my feet touching the floor,…
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“To be admitted to The Academy, so you may train to perhaps become a Majik, of course,” the man explained, looking across at the four teens. “You may start by stating your qualifications for acceptance.”
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Jak didn’t care much for politics, nor the lives of kings and queens, and yet here he was fighting their war. Deprived of his liberty, forced to fight, forced to kill, forced to die. But through his anger and despair, one vision kept shining through: Martha–smiling and happy and waiting for him to come home.
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Myla encounters Kit, a falcon boy whose wings were damaged in a storm. While she helps him seek healing, Kit enjoys the attention in Norv, neglecting his royal duties. As he grows complacent, Myla decides to take matters into her own hands, donning his cloak to retrieve his scepter and reclaim her village.
